Malachi stirred. His eyes opened slowly, the sunlight reflecting on his brown irises. He didn't need to look to know he was being watched. A tall figure stood at the foot of his bed, Long black hair cascaded down her back like a silken shroud.
Malachi sat up straight, his own black, wavy hair dangling in his face, obscuring his vision until he brushed it back with his hand. He offered a sleepy, crooked smile at the figure.
"Little Xian," he murmured, his voice raspy from slumber. "I still can't digest how much you've grown in such a short time. It feels like only yesterday I was carrying you through the shadow gardens."
"B-b-brother," Nyxian answered, her voice sharper than it had been years ago, though the faint ripple of her old stammer remained . "I'm not little anymore. You've slept through the transition."
Malachi gave the girl a quick, appraising glance. She was right. Her hair was a dark river that reached her waist, her baby horns had grown rough and curved like daggers, the royal sigil on her forehead shined brighter than ever and she stood nearly as tall as the palace guards.
"Don't tell me you missed me so much you had to awaken me from my peace,I knew you can't live without me" Malachi teased, stretching his arms.
"Kizari won't let anyone enter," Nyxian spoke, her chin tilted up defiantly. "She has the hallway guarded by her elite. I had no option but to teleport directly into your chambers."
Malachi's grin widened, "Kizari? She finally decided to be a good wife? Playing the role of the devoted gatekeeper to her resting King?"
"I'm-I'm not here for that," Nyxian snapped. "Brother, when is Sister-in-law coming back? It has been four years now. Four years since the halls felt... alive."
Malachi cupped his chin, a thoughtful, distant look crossing his face. "Oh? Has it really been that long? Time is a fickle thing in this palace."
Nyxian's composure finally broke, and she let out a frustrated yell. "Brother! Please, for once, take this seriously! The palace is quiet, the servants are terrified, you won't let me go to the northwest or even leave the palace, Brother I feel like I'm being suffocated."
Malachi stared at her, his eyes twinkling. "Oh wow. You even stopped stammering. Our little Xian has truly grown up."
"I usually don't stammer when I'm angry," she hissed, "Brother, I hate how you you still see me as that little fragile girl you must protect from the council. I hate how you act like nothing matters. If Sister-in-law does not return in six months... I will go to the Northwest Territory myself."
Before Malachi could answer, she vanished in a swirl of shadows, leaving the room colder than before.
Malachi let out a long, weary sigh, leaning back against his silk pillows. "Little kids," he whispered to the empty room. "The moment they grow up, they want to leave home. And they always want to find the things that were meant to stay lost."
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away in the Northwest Territory, the world was a canvas of blinding white.
Zaliyah was out in the deep snow, draped in sapphire-blue furs that shimmered against the frost. Beside him, Sylaris was a miniature reflection of her father, bundled in matching blue furs that made her look like a royal porcelain doll.
Zaliyah was hunched over a patch of untouched snow, his silver hair trailing near the ground. He was focused, his brow furrowed in intense concentration.
"Now, listen carefully Sylaris," Zaliyah instructed, his voice soft but firm. "Our blood is tied to the song of the Earth. Even in the dead of winter, the life is there. You have to reach down, past the ice, and find the seed. Imagine the sun's warmth in your palm. Visualize the petals unfolding, one by one."
He closed his eyes, his hands cupped together. A faint, golden-violet light began to pulse between his fingers. Slowly, he opened his hands. Rising from the frozen ground was a breathtaking lotus flower, its petals a translucent pink, glowing with an ethereal light .
"See?" Zaliyah said, looking up with a proud smile. "This is our heritage, Sylaris. Life amidst the death of winter."
He turned to see his daughter's progress, but his smile faltered. Sylaris wasn't looking at the ground. She wasn't focusing on seeds or "the song of the earth." She was busy patting down a lumpy ball of snow. Beside her stood a huge, misshapen snowman with coal for eyes and sticks for arms.
Zaliyah's face twisted in agitation. "Sylaris! Were you even listening? We are practicing high-tier manifestation, not... playground crafts."
On the balcony of the castle overlooking the courtyard, Thalassa stood with her arms wrapped snugly around Iruna's waist. Harun stood close to them, leaning against the stone railing. Laughter erupted from the balcony as they took in the scene.
"The child wants a snowman, Zaliyah!" Thalassa shouted down, her voice full of mischief. "Not everyone is a flower-obsessed freak like you. Let the girl play!"
Iruna giggled, leaning back into Thalassa's embrace. "Your flower looks so pretty, Your Highness! It looks just like Sylaris!"
"Ewww, no!" Sylaris yelled, sticking her tongue out. "I'm not a flower! I'm a warrior!"
Zaliyah massaged his temples, feeling a headache brewing. "There are no honey cakes for you today, since you refused to listen to Daddy's lesson."
"But Dad-"
"No buts, Sylaris. Discipline is the foundation of power."
Sylaris rolled her eyes, a gesture she had learned perfectly from her father. Suddenly, the air around her snowman began to shimmer. Without a word, the massive ball of snow rose into the air, hovering high above Zaliyah's head.
Zaliyah looked up, his eyes widening. "Sylaris, don't you dare-"
SPLAT.
The snowman fell with pinpoint accuracy, burying Zaliyah's face and torso in a mountain of snow.
Sylaris collapsed into the snow, laughing so hard she was pointing a trembling finger at him. The balcony erupted in cheers, and even the maids, who usually watched in silence, were doubled over in hysterics.
Zaliyah stood up slowly, shaking the snow from his hair, a dark smirk tugging at his lips.
"Oh? You think that's funny? You want to know what's funnier?"
He twirled his finger in the air, and the snow beneath Sylaris began to churn like a whirlpool. In seconds, a gargantuan snowman-five times the size of the one she had built-emerged from the ground like a white titan. Zaliyah pointed a finger at his daughter, and the giant fell.
Sylaris was completely buried, leaving only a small mound of snow where she had stood.
"Sylaris, are you okay? Harun yelled from the balcony.
"Raise a finger if you're still alive in there!" Iruna said.
Thalassa shook her head, though she was still grinning. "How heartless are you, Zaliyah? Bringing snow monsters to a knife fight?"
Zaliyah rolled his eyes, brushing the last of the frost from his furs. "She needs to learn that every action has an equal and opposite reaction."
He moved closer to the mound, intending to help her out, but suddenly, a huge gust of wind-far stronger than a five-year-old should be able to summon-blasted him in the chest.
Zaliyah was sent flying backward, landing deep in a drift like a discarded rag doll.
Thalassa whistled from the balcony. "Nice one, Sylaris! Direct hit!"
"Your Highness! Are you okay?" Iruna called out, worried.
Zaliyah lifted a single thumb from the snow, signaling his survival.
"Yayyyyy,I win this one, Daddy!" Sylaris giggled, popping her head out of the snow.
"Not yet," Zaliyah muttered. He summoned his own power. Using the wind, he called to the trees at the edge of the courtyard. Thousands of dead, brown leaves rose in a swirling swarm. The wind swept Sylaris high into the sky, the leaves tickling her skin as she spun.
The child's laughter filled the air, high and sweet, but after a moment, the giggles turned to soft sobs. Zaliyah had begun to sharpen the wind, the leaves nipping and "piercing" at the girl's protective furs to startle her.
Thalassa leaned over the railing, her face hardening. "Zaliyah, are you nuts? Put her down already! You're hurting her because she threw little snow are you ? "
Iruna turned in Thalassa's arms, looking up at her. "Why are you so biased, Deputy Commander? He's just playing with her."
"I'm biased only towards cuties," Thalassa murmured, her voice dropping as she looked at Iruna. "Namely, you and Sylaris."
Iruna blushed, looking away as Thalassa leaned down to press a kiss against her neck.
"Your Highness, perhaps it is time to put her down?" Harun spoke up, He had developed a soft spot for the girl.
"What did we learn today, Sylaris?" Zaliyah asked, looking up at the floating child.
Sylaris spoke through her tears, her voice small. "To... to obey Daddy."
"You make it seem like I'm the devil ," Zaliyah sighed, rolling his eyes. He flicked his fingers, and the wind died instantly, lowering the girl gently into his arms.
She immediately clung to his neck. "I'm so sorry, Daddy," she whispered, embracing him tightly.
Zaliyah patted her head, his heart softening instantly. "It's okay, little monster. I'm not angr-"
SMACK.
Sylaris had pulled a hidden ball of snow from her sleeve and slammed it into Zaliyah's cheek. She leaped from his arms, screaming with joy as she ran toward the castle.
"Get back here, you little demon!" Zaliyah yelled, his smirk returning. He chased after her with a scoop of snow, and for the next hour, the courtyard was a blur of blue furs and flying white powder.
Iruna and Harun watched from above, a bittersweet silence falling between them. They wished for this moment to never end, but the shadows in the castle were growing longer. They knew their time of peace in the Northwest was drawing inevitable close.
The sun set, turning the snow into a field of purple. Inside the castle, the warmth of the hearth took the sting out of the day.
Zaliyah was seated in his favorite rocking chair, his eyes half-closed. Iruna stood behind him, her hands moving rhythmically as she brushed his long, silver hair. Sylaris was draped across his lap, already drifting into a deep sleep. It was a habit she had kept since she was a toddler; the "warrior" girl only felt safe enough to sleep when she was anchored in her father's arms.
Iruna stepped forward, pausing her brushing. She reached into her sleeve and pulled out a small dagger. With a steady hand, she cut her wrist.
The dark red blood began to drip. Zaliyah held the child's head back slightly as the blood fell into Sylaris's mouth.
The child swallowed in her sleep, her body absorbing Iruna's blood. Once the process was finished, Zaliyah reached out, his hand glowing with a soft healing light. He ran his fingers over Iruna's wrist, sealing the wound instantly, leaving no scar behind.
Iruna picked up the brush and continued her work, the silence of the room only broken by the crackle of the fire. Zaliyah used a silk towel to gently wipe the stray droplets of blood from his daughter's lips.
His mind raced back to that terrifying week a year ago when Sylaris had gone unconscious. The physician had delivered the news that crushed Zaliyah's soul: the Night Stalker poison, which had inhabited Zaliyah for so long, had transferred to the child in the womb. It was a cruel inheritance.
The poison had only two cures: a pregnant host transfering it to their fœtus or the host could drink the blood of a Demon King.
Since Malachi was never an option Zaliyah would consider, Iruna-possessing a poison resistant blood, had offered her own blood to stabilize the girl. It wasn't a permanent cure, but it kept the poison dormant. It kept her alive.
A slight tug on his shoulder from Iruna pulled him back to the present.
"The maids are whispering, Your Highness," Iruna murmured. "They say that you and the Commander have gotten... exceedingly close lately."
Zaliyah didn't look up. "Let them whisper. Rumors are just wind."
"The militants are talking too," Iruna continued. "They say the commander is a man driven by logic, yet they've never seen him like this. He looks at you as if he would burn the world if you asked him for the matches."
Iruna giggled softly. "I guess Your Highness's plan is working."
Zaliyah's eyes sharpened, the warmth of the father replaced by the cold calculation of the strategist. "The Commander's support was easier to achieve than I thought. Lust is a much stronger motivator than loyalty."
He leaned back, his fingers tangling in his daughter's hair. "I would sell my body if I had to, Runa. I would give every piece of myself away, as long as Malachi is reduced to nothing. As long as he pays for what he did to us."
He looked down at Sylaris, his voice falling to a whisper. "I won't let him hurt you. Not you. Not in this life or the next."
As he spoke, his hand instinctively moved to the high collar of his robes, touching the rough scars on his neck, the consort brand wasn't the only thing tying him to Malachi.